Urgent
by upriserseven
Summary: He needed to talk to her, and she needed to know why. Jac/Joseph
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **My first Holby fanfic! Eek! It's Jac & Joseph, although I like to think that it's largely a story about the friendship. That may not show in this chapter, but hopefully will later on.

I love this couple, and this show, so it made sense I guess!

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Don't you hate waking up to an incessant beeping next to your head? It's right in my ear, louder than it usually seems. It's usually only this loud if I'm hungover, but I didn't drink anything last night.

I haven't actually drunk anything in a while. I don't trust myself. It wouldn't be drinking for enjoyment, it'd be drinking to 'take my mind off things' and that's when it gets dangerous. It wouldn't take my mind off things anyway. It's not easy to forget.

I take 2 more painkillers than I should as I'm getting ready, and completely rush the morning ritual. Getting dressed takes longer than it should and I get nauseous as I brush my teeth. My visions a little blurry, meaning it takes me fifteen minutes to find my keys and phone. My bag feels heavy, and my hands shake as I try to fasten my coat. I try to brush it off, tell myself that this is normal. After all, I've only been awake for half an hour.

Traffic. Great. Who doesn't just love a traffic jam? Even better is a traffic jam when you have to be at work in five minutes. I pick up my phone to call in. Vision's better and my hands not shaking any more, that's good news.

_"Darwin"_

"Joseph? It's Jac. I'm ten minutes away, and stuck in traffic, so I'm gonna be late. Thought I should call in and tell you." I hang up without giving him the chance to say anything. Just the sound of his voice makes me hurt, as much as I hate to admit it. But, lucky me, being stuck in traffic gives me a lot of oppurtunity to think about all the things I want to ignore. Like him. I want to ignore him. Actually no, I want him around, it's her I want to ignore.

I try to convince myself that it's more than jealousy. It's not that he's not with me, but more that he is with her. He can convince himself that he doesn't love me as much as he wants, but we both know he does. But that's not my point. My point is that, she's worse for him than I am. I've made my mistake, I lost him once and I never would again.

Everybody thinks that my relationship with Joseph was simple. Everyone else's interpretation is: Jac knew Joseph was a Byrne. Jac starts relationship with Joseph, but it's not helpful, so she moves on. I've always let everyone believe that, but it's not necessarily true.

It's more like this: Joseph was my friend, and I really did care for him. As a friend. So when I realised he could maybe be helpful, I figured that I could make this friendship become more. But when I actually fell for him, it terrified me. I needed a way to end it. Immediately and indefinitely. Joseph's father was the perfect opportunity, and if he could help me career-wise, why not?

I didn't seem to remember that Joseph really was a good friend, and I needed him more than I'd care to think. I still do.

I know I'm not exactly one to talk, but Faye really is like poison when it comes to Joseph. Somehow, he seems to have conveniently forgotten the two dead husbands. Actually, I think he remembers. He remembers it all, he knows why I don't trust her. He sees the way she is with Linden, keeps it in the back of his mind that he has wealth where she doesn't, reminds himself of the very sick child involved. Yet he seems to see these as endearing human qualities. Something he strugggles to see in me.

Or struggled. I think he sees it now. No, I know he sees it now. He sees that I've changed my attitude. Towards him at least. He sees that he means more to me now than he ever has. He's realised that my feelings for him are genuine, and he's realised that I no longer feel the need to lie to him, or manipulate him. I think he's starting to see me as human again. I hope so.

I've somehow managed to drive to work. I don't remember the traffic moving, and I don't remember anything that just happened. It's been twenty minutes since I called and spoke to Joseph. Have I been thinking about him this whole time? Damn.

The ride up in the lift seems longer than usual. I've always had a slight fear of lifts. Really, it's just a big metal box being pulled up by... what? A wire? Doesn't seem entirely safe to me.

The doors drag themselves open and I see him, standing at the nurse's station biting his nails. He sees me and walks over to me. If walk is even the word. He's quick. He seems nervous. After staring at me for a few seconds, he grabs my elbow and pulls me aside, telling me he needs to speak to me. Urgently.

Now, a million possibilties are running through my head. What could make him so nervous? And why does he need to speak to me?

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**AN: **If you liked, review. If you didn't, review but don't be too mean. Please?  
I'm only going to carry it on if people review, otherwise it's kind of pointless. No feedback: No improvement.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **It's been so long since I updated, and I'm sorry about that! Thank you for the response to the first chapter! A lot of stuff changed since my last chapter, including my penname, and where I was intending to take this story. I have a new direction (and a better one in my opinion!)

**Disclaimer: **Don't own. But you know that already.

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My breathing pattern goes crazy as he drags me to a quiet corner. It's only when we get there that I realise that everyone is staring at him, whispering. I hear people tutting and the odd glare comes my way. What in the name of hell happened between me leaving last night, and returning this morning?

"Joseph, you're starting to make me..."

"No. Let me talk."

I freeze. What could he need to talk to me about? I don't like this urgency. There's nothing running through my mind. Nothing. I can't even think the worst because I'm so confused. He's staring into my eyes. He's... staring straight into me. Usually, this feeling would comfort me, but right now, I'm terrified.

His eyes look dark somehow. When I really look at him, he looks dark. His eyes look empty and I don't think he's slept. His hand is still resting on my elbow, and when I look down at it, I notice that it's cut. Not just cut, ripped to shreds. Still bleeding. I gently pull it towards me, and stare at him.

"It's nothing. I need to talk to you"

"It's been five minutes since you said that. Just talk."

"Faye..."

"What about her?"

"She's um. We've..."

His eyes aren't empty any more. They're filling with tears. I let go of his bleeding hand, and he collapses into me. What can I do, other than hold him? Do I ask him questions? Have they broken up? I need to know. I need to know. He suddenly pulls away from me.

"She knew, Jac."

"Knew what?"

"About you?"

"What about me?"

"She knew"

He walks away. Just... walks away. What the hell does that mean, she knew about me? Knew what?

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**A/N: **I know that it was super-short, but I had to change things at little so I needed to get myself into the flow of this story! Review if you want to. If you don't like, don't be mean. There's no need for that.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** Apologies! Not only have I not update in a really long time, but I'm giving you a ludicrously short chapter! It's a filler! You'll get more soon. You have my promise.

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How did he expect me to possibly get through the day with that in my mind? I hope he realises that leaving me on that note is ridiculous. And selfish. And, terrifying if I take a moment to be honest with myself.

What could Faye know? Am I insane for thinking it could be- no. Don't let yourself finish that thought Jac. Just don't go there.  
I look down at my phone. His number is there. All I have to do is press that little green button. That's not difficult. At least, it shouldn't be. Even the simple things seem so much harder with him. Just press it Jac. Don't be so bloody stupid. Whatever it is, he must want you to know or he wouldn't have said anything. Just press it.

And I do.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: **Look, a longer chapter! And only a week or so after the latest! Aren't you amazed? I know I am.

Also, not related to this fic but I've just re-watched the latest Holby for the millionth time, and I fall apart every time. I think I'm going to be writing something relating to this soon, I can't leave it untouched.

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Maybe it was only ringing for seconds, but it felt like hours. His voice is scratchy, like he's been crying. He doesn't waste time on a greeting, which I'm grateful for.  
"You want to know what she knew"  
"Not want. Need."  
"Can." he pauses, and I hear him breathing, "Can I see you? I don't want to talk to you over the phone."  
We eventually agree that he'll come here. To my flat. I'm not sure how it got suggested, but I know that the very thought makes me nervous and I can't fully explain why. He says he'll come as soon as he finishes his shift, which I note is in half an hour.

Rather than sitting anticipating his arrival, I jump in the shower. The water hits my skin like a thousand tiny knives. The temperature feels the same no matter what I do. The smell of my shampoo surrounds me. Suddenly my senses are heightened. The water is pounding the floor, the steam makes it almost impossible for me to breathe. I realise I have to speed this along. I rinse off the overpowering cherry shampoo, and get out of the bathroom as soon as I can. I wrap a black towel around me, and walk over to my bedroom window. Somehow, even open wide, it doesn't seem to be letting any air in.

I sit on the edge of my bed for a while, unable to breathe properly, wearing only the towel. A sudden chill crashes into me and I realise I need to get dressed before Joseph gets here.

For some reason, I care what I wear. It feels like it matters. Something that doesn't scream 'look how hard I tried' but doesn't seem like I don't care. Since when did these things matter to me? Since when did I act like a _girl_ about these things? After much deliberation, I decide on a black vest and jeans. It's simple, it's casual but it looks good on me. Wow. Looks good on me? I really have changed.

I look at the clock. He's probably just leaving. Good God, why am I so nervous? Alright, Jac, calm down. Being nervous doesn't do anything. It's not going to change what he says. Or what he does. Or... what am I even anticipating? Right. Don't think about it Jac, just don't think about it. Don't allow yourself to think anything. Nothings going to happen. Just...

My thoughts are interrupted by the doorbell. Ten minutes? I'm amazed he got here so quickly. It's been years since he was last here, yet his journey took only a little longer than mine would, and I take it every day.

He looks nervous. I wonder if I do too. I must. He's shaking. His hands are still cut from this morning. He sees me looking at them and puts them in his pockets. He greets me shyly and I can't help but smile as I step back to let him in.

I make tea while he wanders around the flat, looking at my books, my CDs, my DVDs. Looking at these things that make up parts of my life. I wonder why, and I wonder what he's thinking.

"So. I guess, you came here to talk right?" He looks up at me, even more nervous. I didn't want to be blunt, but we'd never get anywhere if I wasn't. I walk over to him, handing him his mug, and I sit on the couch. It takes about a minute for him to sit next to me, but he does.  
"Joseph. Your hands look really bad"  
"They're fine"  
"They're not"  
"No. They're not." He places his mug on the table and sits forward. "They're painful. They've been hurting all day, actually. I think they're bad"  
"Of course they're bad. Do you want to me to check them?" He smiles at me sheepishly, and I move forward and take his hands in my own. They're bad. They're like, worse than I thought, kind of bad.

"Don't bother with them now. I'll never say this if we don't just do this now." Nodding, I wait for him to tell me what he came here to say, and feel my heart start to pound. So much for not thinking about it.

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**Author's Note: **does anybody else think chapter's look so much shorter when you upload them? It's over 700 words, I promise! Anyway, Reviews are always appreciated. Really. I don't think I've ever mentioned how grateful i am for each and every review that I get.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **So, another chapter. I know it's taken a while (again), and it's really short (again), but I finally have a real definitive plan for this story!  
I hope you've all resigned yourselves to the fact that updates for this are few and far between!  
Like I said, it's short, but it moves things along! I'm thinking there's only going to be three more chapters at most.  
Reviews are always welcome and thank you to those of you who've already reviewed!

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We sit in perfect silence, but there's no awkwardness, just anticipation. It takes everything I've got to not turn to him and insist he tells me whatever it is he's got to say. I know he has to do it in his own time, and looking at his hands, I fear rushing him may end badly for both of us. I pick my mug back up from the table and take a sip of the coffee that's still a little too hot. I place it back down, defeated, my mouth burning a little. I hear him start to laugh behind me.

"How ridiculous is this?" He smiles at me before continuing. "I mean, it shouldn't be so difficult. I should be quite capable of telling you how I feel about you, yet the very thought sends fear coursing through me." My stomach twists at his words, "_how I feel about you_". Something he feels for me is the reason he's here. Something he feels for me that Faye knew. Something that caused him to panic. Something that caused him to rip his hands to shreds like that. Something that puts fear in him.

"How you feel about me?" I feel the need to repeat his words. I wonder if my question will urge him along, make him able to say what he feels he can't yet. He stares at me awkwardly for a moment. I can't help but smile a little. My mind is suddenly consumed with thoughts of my coffee, and whether it's at a suitable drinking temperature yet. I can feel his eyes burning into my head, but I can't look at him again. Not until he says something. Anything.

"I love you." Okay. I didn't think he'd say that. Even though I've been hoping for this, wishing for it for years, the overriding emotion is still shock. "I've loved you since I've known you. There was a time, when I couldn't stand to look at you, but I still loved you. You've consumed my thoughts for four years, and I don't see that changing any time soon. I... I guess I couldn't hide it any more. I couldn't deny it. I never should've in the first place, but it seemed so much easier. But I guess I wasn't doing a very good job of hiding it because. Well, because Faye knew. She asked me, and I couldn't lie. I'm sick of it. I couldn't like to her, or to you, or to myself, I guess. God, this all sounds so atrocious and corny and clichéd, but it's all true." He stops, and takes a deep breath, before staring straight into my eyes. He smiles faintly before picking up his mug. He quickly drops it, and curses under his breath. I instantly grab his hand, and see that it's bleeding again. I get up and grab a towel from the bathroom, wetting it. Joseph follows me, and I sit him on the edge of the bath, cleaning the wounds on his hand.  
He winces in pain everytime I touch him, and each time, sheepishly apologises. The atmosphere is slightly tense, yet relaxed. We both know that's there's so much left unsaid, and so much still to come.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:** hey hey hey! New chapter! Chapters for this are probably all going to be around 500 words from now on. Well, we're nearing the end of the story now, but there will be a few more chapters. A lot of my J/J stuff is kind of dramatic and angsty, so... I think this may be a welcome break from that. Also, I know the timing doesn't really work out (this being after 'What Goes Around'), but... well, it's my story so I can do whatever I want. Please, fell free to review, because I do appreciate each one.  
Enjoy!

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Hearing my bedroom door close, I'm stirred from my sleep. He places a cup of coffee on my bedside table and smiles at me.  
"Morning." My voice comes out squeaky, yet groggy. I clear my throat and try again. "Morning". Much better. He laughs at me. It's all easy. It's comfortable.

"Thought you might like a drink." He says as I bring the cup to my lips. I nod in thanks, and he watches me take a sip. He's studying whether he got it right. He did. It impresses, and pleases, me that he remembered. I can't help but smile.

He looks at me, silently asking if it's okay for him to sit. I bring my knees up to my chest, and nod for him to sit. He perches awkwardly at the foot of my bed. I wonder how long it will take before we discuss the events of the night before. I don't remember getting to bed, although I'm sure he got me here. Somewhere after the long talks, the comfortable silences, the laughing, the entirely new experience of feeling completely right.

The memory sweeps over me. The little kiss he planted on my forehead after I bandaged up his hands, and the sheepish smile afterwards. He looked so... adorable. Convincing him to stay, even if only for a while. All the things I had forgotten about. Like the way his arm feels when it's around my shoulders. Or that habit he has of twirling my hair around his finger gently. How it feels to wake up with my head resting on his shoulder. I never thought I'd be quite so happy to fall asleep on the couch with somebody.

I must've fallen asleep again. I don't remember waking up, so I'm pretty sure he carried me in to my room, and slept on the couch.

"Sleep well?" He's a little more relaxed now, though he's still sitting at the other end of the bed. When I think about it, I slept better than I have in a long time.

"Great. You? That couch isn't the most comfortable". I think briefly about the week or so I spent sleeping on it after my surgery, before quickly pushing the memories out of my mind. I don't need to think about that right now.

"I slept better than I have in a long time, actually." He stares at me for a moment before adding, "there's something quite nice about knowing you're that close".

"Yet you choose to be so far away?" The fact that he doesn't respond makes me wonder if he fully understood my comment, but it's clear he does when he scoots back and sits beside me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

"We have so much we need to talk about Joseph." It needs to be said. We both know it. He kisses the top of my head, telling me that he knows. But not right now. Right now, we silently agree to enjoy the moment.


End file.
